Of minor injuries, and tight spaces
by Granger-Danger-62442
Summary: Because these things never seem to end as planned.


"Come on Rose! We've got to keep moving."

"But we've lost Jack!"

"It's fine, Jack can handle himself! He'll catch up!"

"Says the man," she pants, doubling over with her hands on her knees. "Says the man with two bloody hearts an'a... what was it?"

"Respiratory-bypass system." He replies distractedly, glancing over her shoulder. He can hear the townsfolk in the distance, and- Oh, they don't sound too happy. "Come on!" Seizing her hand, he tugs her forward, and she stumbles after him down the corridor.

Sometimes she wonders if he plans these things on purpose. There's no possible way that every planet they visit has at least one person who's not so fond of the famous (infamous) Doctor.

Rose gasps as something buzzes past her cheek, the noise followed by a sharp stinging sensation. The force of the projectile whips her hair into disarray, and as she shoves it frantically out of her eyes, she sees it:

Well, there's the occasional silver lining.

"Doctor," she gasps. "Over here."

"Rose, what are you-" He follows her line of vision, his voice raising several octaves. "Really?"

"Oh, come on!" She glances over her shoulder one last time, before rounding the corner and dashing over to a small grey door with the words, "Authorized Personal Only" stamped across its front. Deciding that she and the Doctor are as good a personal as any, Rose fumbles with the handle.

"Here, just let me." Whipping out his sonic, the Doctor aims it at the door. There's a flash of blue light, and the handle sparks violently. "Come on then."

He leaps inside, tugging her in after him, and the door closes with a bang. Reaching around her, he quickly sonics the lock, the feeble click it emits doing little to soothe their frazzled nerves.

They fall quiet, listening intently, only the sound of their heavy breathing permeating the silence.

"Suppose they're still out there then?" Rose whispers.

"Oh, yes." The Doctor frowns, trying with some difficulty to place his sonic back inside his coat. "No, this species is a peculiar one. Did you see their ears? They use sound to track, quite legend for it actually. Some say they can hear a pin... drop... from..." He twists his arm, bending his elbow at an awkward angle before Rose finally caves.

"Give it here, then." Reaching forward, she plucks the device from his hand. Fumbling for a moment in the dark, she manages to get his coat open, shoving the screwdriver into the nearest pocket.

He coughs nervously. "Right. Thanks."

"Mhm."

Silence surrounds them once again. The Doctor squirms.

"Rose?"

"Yes?"

"I think we're in a janitorial closet."

"That would explain why I'm standing in a bucket."

"Quite right."

"D'you see a light switch, or chain, or anything?"

There are slats towards the top of the door, not unlike those on the employee lockers at her shop. Too high for her to see through, but just about the Doctor's eye level, they let in enough light so that both members of the closet can just barely make out the shape of the other.

"Hold on, let me just.." The Doctor trails off, shifting slightly.

Something soft brushes her cheek unexpectedly, and she hisses, both startled, and because of the stinging pain that radiates through it at the touch.

"Oi!"

"Sorry, so sorry. I was just looking for a light... Hold on." Even in the darkness, Rose can tell he's frowning. "Why did that hurt?"

She shrugs, he silhouette moving vaguely against the door. "I heard something fly past right as we were roundin' the corner, must've caught my cheek is all. Wasn't really thinking 'bout it at the time. We were being chased." She adds feebly, trying for humour.

She hears him sigh. "Rose..."

"M'fine." She assures him. "No lasting damage done."

"Still. Let me at least look at it, we could be in here for a while."

Reluctantly, she acquiesces. "Alright."

"Alright." He echoes, shifting towards her. Reaching out carefully, so as not to accidentally jab her, he comes into contact with fabric. "What's that?"

"My wrist," she breathes on a laugh.

"Right. Good. Ok." Slowly, he slides his hand up her arm, fingers trailing lightly against the fabric.

Rose sucks in a breath. He's barely touching her, nothing at all compared to the the many hugs they've shared. (Theirs is very much a tactile relationship, in no small part due to the Doctor himself.)

This, however, is different. There's something about his gentle manner, how careful he is with her, coupled with the darkness that makes it all more... intimate.

"This?"

She coughs. "Shoulder."

"Right." His fingers brush up briefly across her throat before lifting to her cheek. "Here, or...?"

"Other side." She fights the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. The fact there are violent, large-eared thugs searching for them, that they're trapped in this closet for who knows how long in pitch darkness, and that the Doctor is choosing now, of all times, to feel her up.

In a manner of speaking.

"Alright, if you could just back up a little for the light..." His hands find her shoulders, and then he's shuffling her those couple inches back until she hits the door with a gentle thud. She suppresses a shiver. "There we go."

Finding her cheek again, the Doctor tilts her head to the left, his right hand coming up to trace the thin red line. Stooping slightly in order to see better, his nose bumps the top of her head.

"Sorry!" He whispers, rather loudly.

"Just get on with it, will ya?"

"Alright, alright, tetchy." But his voice is gentle to match his fingers, and he prods at the wound, pulling back slightly when she hisses.

"Sorry, sorry." For some reason, he can't seem to stop apologizing.

Is he... he _flustered_?

His breath washes over her chin, and Rose catches a whiff of peppermint.

"Oi," she mutters, going for cross and failing miserably. "Have you been nicking my sweets again?"

The Doctor chuckles throatily, not three inches from her ear, and she closes her eyes, balling her hands into fists at her side.

"Rose Tyler," he murmurs, in lieu of an answer. "What an unruly patient you are." Tilting her chin with his thumb, he turns it firmly to the side and splays the rest of his fingers along her cheek. "Now stay still."

"Yes mother." She breathes, her voice coming out less steady than she'd have liked.

It's his turn to pull a fake shudder, close enough that she can feel it. "Never." He growls, the sound sending a jolt of heat shooting through her, and she lets her mind drift in a vain attempt of surviving this with her dignity intact.

There's a loud bang from somewhere off in the distance.

They stand in a tense silence.

A sharp cry, quickly echoed by several others, which resonates down the corridor. Footsteps. Jack? Are they getting closer, or farther away?

She can hear the Doctor's breathing as he concentrates on his tast, slow and even against her ear. Every five breaths or so, he'll hold one for a bit longer, releasing it finally in a puff of air that fans her hair out in front of her.

There's the smell of something harsh, acerbic, floating through the slats in the door. Are they trying to poison them? Smoke them out?

The Time Lord has his own smell. The sharp tang of his ridiculous hair products, mixed with something earthy and heady and _him_, so strong that it makes her head spin.

The air in this building is freezing, no doubt to encourage outsides to keep moving, making sound, so as to attract attention to themselves.

He's not exactly cold, the Doctor, but he's not the normal heat of a human either. Rather, he's his own special temperature, absorbing and radiating heat to better suit the touches he gives and receives.

Rose is blushing now, she must be, her breaths coming quicker by the second and her one, solitary heart beating a staccato against her ribcage. How can he not feel it?

But he's as impassive as ever, his own breathing slow and steady at her ear, even a his fingers trail fire across her bare skin, ignite her veins. God, she sounds like some teenager- feels like one too- but it's a simple fact that she won't be able to bear much more of this, she can't, not this close, and it bloody well does _not_ take someone this long to inspect a cheek.

"Doctor..."

Humming in response, he pulls back slightly, turning her chin so that they're face to face. "Alright then?" He murmurs, eyes intent on hers, something odd floating in the back of his gaze.

Hell if he doesn't sound a little breathless too.

Abruptly, he straightens up.

Rose peers up at him, slightly dazed. "Alright?"

He nods mutely, clearing his throat.

"Doctor?"

"Yes, yes, fine." He clasps his hands together, wringing them nervously. "More than fine actually, brilliant." He takes a step back, stumbling over- is that a broom with three heads? He flails, throwing out a hand for balance, and Rose grabs it in an attempt to steady him.

Overcompensating, she tugs too hard, and now the Time Lord is careening forward, into her, and they land with an unceremonious clang against the metal door.

Rose blinks up.

The Doctor blinks down.

His hands are on either side of her head, thrown at the last second to avoid crushing her; his elbows are tucked close to his body due to the tight space, boxing her in; their faces are inches apart; and her foot- yes, her foot is still stuck in the bloody bucket.

"So..." she draws the syllable out shakily. "We meet again?"

"It, uhm, it-" he clears is throat nervously. "It would appear so, yes."

Her tongue darts out, wetting her lips nervously, and she sees his eyes shoot to the action, transfixed.

The banging has stopped. She notices as if from a distance, her vision narrowing even in the darkness, focusing on her companion's face.

"Doctor?" With an apparent effort, he pulls his gaze to hers. "D'you... Do you think they've gone?"

"Hm?" He's surprisingly monosyllabic today.

"The big-eared, alien, things. Do you, do you think..." She trails off, watching absently as he leans towards her.

"It's certainly possible." She lifts her hand, almost unconsciously, reaching out to run her thumb against the corner of his mouth, just shy of his lower lip.

His eyes darken, and she feels her breath hitch sharply in her chest.

"Doctor."

"Rose."

And then she's tugging him down by his tie, crushing her mouth to his. He comes willingly, almost desperately, his hands flying to her face. Rose has a mad moment of pleasure in knowing she's had just as bad an effect on him as he has her.

She strokes against the seam of his mouth, and he parts gladly, letting out a low hum that sizzles in her veins. One of his hands falls to her hip, the other burying itself in her hair. Using this to his advantage, the Doctor angles her just right, slanting his mouth over hers.

Rose gasps, and he takes the opportunity to dart inside, runs his tongue along the roof of her mouth. She whimpers, arching towards him, and slides her hands up up up across his chest, (divesting him of his coat in the process), over his shoulders, to delve into his hair. Giving it a tug, she works her mouth over his, gasping as he nips at her lip in retaliation.

The Time Lord's hands are everywhere and nowhere at once; clutching at her shoulders to draw her closer, framing her face as he works diligently at her mouth, slipping under her shirt to the bare skin of her back, and every place he touches burns with fire.

Rose laves at his lower lip, sliding her hands back down his chest to knead at the muscles there. At the press of her fingertips, he emits an unintelligible noise, and she smirks against his mouth.

With a growl, he seizes her wrists in a gentle grip. Pinning them above her head, he lowers his mouth to suck on her rapidly beating pulse.

Rose whimpers, straining towards him, as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

"Doc-Doctor."

He hums, dragging his teeth along her collarbone, dipping his tongue into the hollow of her throat.

Letting out a strangled cry, Rose slips her hands from his; seizing his face and dragging him back up. She delves into his mouth, the wet slide of her tongue against his, dueling for dominance, is drugging. She can feel his grin, at the fact that she challenges him, even in this.

That grin slips away when she slowly rolls her hips into his, replaced instead with a strangled cry that _Oh yes_ she needs him to make again. Sliding a hand into the waistband of his pants, she jerks him closer. The Doctor obliges, sliding a leg between hers, and then suddenly, she's being lifted, both of her legs locked around his waist like a vise. He rocks into her, again and _again _and swallows the moan she emits with his lips and tongue and _oh_ it's too much, too good, and she can't- if they don't stop _right_ _now_ then-

As if sensing her thoughts, the Doctor slows, gentling the kiss. Raising his hands to cup her face, he works at her mouth, chipping away the frantic need, until all that's left is a slow burn that hums in her veins. Her feet hit the ground with a soft _thud_, and as if by some unspoken cue, they break apart.

Panting, they gaze at each other, unable to speak. The Doctor closes his eyes, bringing his forehead down with a bump to rest against hers. Grinning, Rose runs a hand through his hair, dragging her nails lightly across his scalp before dropping down to play with the short pieces at the base of his neck.

"We're in a closet."

She hums in agreement, racing heart still pounding in her ears.

"And we snogged. I remember snogging."

"Vividly." A grin creeps onto his face, and Rose has to fight the urge to kiss it off. (Because, oh, she can do that now/)

"We just snogged in a closet."

"It would seem so."

"D'you know what that means?"

Opening his eyes, something like glee creeps onto his face, and Rose feels the corners of her own mouth twitch suspiciously.

"What?"

He grins at her, tongue peeking out from between his teeth.

"I still got it."

She whacks him on the arm for that one, and that's all it takes for them to dissolve into a fit of giggles. Clutching at each other, they gasp for breath.

"Oh God, we're like a couple of teenagers," Rose laments. "Of all the places."

"Well now, I do seem to recall a certain Rose Tyler as instigator to all this."

"Oi! Takes two to tango mister."

"Only on some planets-"

There's a loud bang from outside their door, and they both freeze, still wrapped around each other. Then a voice calls out to them.

"Doctor? Rose? Anyone there?"

Rose leans her head against the wall with a relieved sigh. "Finally, decent company."

"Oi! Just for that, you can go first!" And with that, the Doctor unlocks the door, slides it open, and promptly shoves Rose Tyler into the corridor.

Jack spins around in surprise. "Oh, there you are. I was wondering where you two had got to." He raises an eyebrow. "About time, I must say."

Rose blushes, frowning. "How- howd'you know we- not that we- how-?"

Jack glances from her, to the closet, before finally landing on the Doctor, who's strolling leisurely out after her, hands stuffed into his pockets and whistling merrily.

She sighs. "Right."

Jack frowns, turning back to her. "I do have one question though." He pauses, glancing down bemusedly.

"Why is there a bucket on your foot?"


End file.
